


Alas, Poor Yorick

by Dach



Series: The Chronicles of Johnlock (Alluded to or Otherwise Depicted) [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alas poor yorick, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dramatic Sherlock, Fluff and Crack, Gen, It's For a Case, John is Not Amused, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Shakespeare, Shakespeare, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Sherlock Needs A Case, Sherlock wants to be an actor, Wait for it, crackish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dach/pseuds/Dach
Summary: “Alas, poor Yorick,” The pale man spoke at last, his voice quiet and tinged with sorrow. The man lowered the skull slightly, his eyes bright with the welling of tears. “I knew him, Horatio.”~~~Sherlock wants to be an actor, resulting in this crackish drabble.





	

The tall man stood by the fire-mantle, his cloak draping elegantly. The flickering light of the fire alit on his face, dancing across his high cheekbones and making play of his cupid’s-bow mouth. Underneath the dark hair falling over his forehead, his eyes were mournful and glittered with unshed tears. For a few moments, nothing but the almost inaudible sound of the fire crackling could be heard. A particularly loud snap of wood seemed to alert the man.

He drifted forward slightly, lifting the human skull from the stone without thought. He was enraptured in the melancholy. The thin man’s expression of disbelief fell to regret, and he unconsciously descended to his knees. The firelight illuminated the gleaming skull, and it cast into sharp definition the cravasses and empty hollows of bone. A near sob escaped the dark-haired man, and the skull was tremblingly lifted aloft. 

“Alas, poor Yorick,” The man spoke at last, his voice quiet and tinged with sorrow. “I knew him, Horatio.” He lowered the skull slightly, his eyes bright with the welling of tears. 

“ A fellow of infinite jest,” said the man. “Of most excellent fancy; he hath-”

From the back of the room, the lamenting man’s companion snorted in most undignified amusement. 

“Don’t quit your dayjob, Sherlock,” said John.


End file.
